


IN CONSEQUENCE OF A FACE SAVING COMMENT

by wellmet



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Discussion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellmet/pseuds/wellmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Skyfall Bond talks to Q about Silva wanting to be his first man and asks for help for next time</p>
            </blockquote>





	IN CONSEQUENCE OF A FACE SAVING COMMENT

**Author's Note:**

> I thought Bond lied when he told Silva he wouldn't be his first man. Back home he asks Q to be his first man. Discussion of the after effects of rape (not Q's) and a big decision by Bond.

IN CONSEQUENCE OF A FACESAVING COMMENT  
Meretseger 2016

 

This story takes place after Skyfall.

James Bond tucked the white cardboard box containing M's ridiculous Union Flag-wearing bulldog tighter under his left arm and took one last look over the city that he had given up so much of his life to protect and then he turned away from the view and went down to Q Branch.

The Quartermaster had attended M's funeral with two of his senior engineers, dressed like everybody else in a black suit and tie. But instead of the usual dark overcoat he had worn a dark pine tree-green Ulster style coat, with black frogging instead of buttons. It was unusual but somehow Bond thought it was just Q being Q. The man liked to wear clashing patterns and colours and dark green was sombre enough, after all. 

Q Branch was its usual busy mixture of computer keys being tapped and electronic humming that seemed to bounce off the dark brick walls of Q's lair. It was almost cold down here and the minions tended to wear windcheaters with bright pictures on the front or hand knitted jumpers with pictures of alien machines or odd logos on them that no doubt meant something to their co-workers. Q had taken off his suit jacket and put on a blue jumper with red, white and blue stripes down the arms. 

"Can I help you, 007?" Q asked without turning. A frisson of something - something he couldn't quite put his finger on - changed the atmosphere of a room when one of the double 0 agents entered and he had caught a glimpse of Bond's face and light hair in the computer monitor in front of him.

"Could I speak to you for a moment?" Bond asked. There was a favour he needed and Q was the only one who could help him. "In your office."

Q frowned at the interruption but when he turned to look at the other man's face he saw something he had never expected to see in this man's face - uncertainty. He nodded and led the way across the stone flagged floor to his office. He stood aside to let Bond enter first and when he shut and locked the door he flicked the switch that turned the glass walls opaque. He had the distinct feeling this was going to be a sensitive conversation.

Bond moved to stand by Q's desk and got straight to the point. "I need to talk to you about something - something personal and I wanted to ask if I could drop by your flat this evening - at a time that suits you, of course. Or if you would prefer - I don't have a flat of my own yet but you could come to my hotel."

"Why not ask your question here?" Q asked, wondering what advice he could give to 007 who was not only older than him but a man who had seen a lot more of the world than he had. 

"I would prefer to do this somewhere apart from here," Bond answered. "Please."

"Alright," Q agreed to the request, he had no real reason to refuse. "My place at eight o'clock." He waited for Bond's quick thanks and then asked, "may I ask what this is about?"

Bond hesitated then shook his head. "No, I'd prefer not to say."

"Very well, I'll see you at eight." Q nodded, unlocked the door and went back to work. 

"Thank you," Bond said and followed the Quartermaster out of the office. He needed drink after saying goodbye to M.

As he worked Q wondered what Bond could want to talk about. Maybe it was just that the man wanted to talk about M and had no one else to talk to. Q had only known the woman for a short time but she had earned his respect; she had been a most formidable woman and she and 007 had been close. It was a sad thought that he was the closest thing to a friend Bond had. Not that they were really friends but there was a sort of rapport between them. The big thing was that as a gay man Q had developed a crush on 007. It wasn't surprising really: Bond was as handsome, arrogant and dangerous as a Greek god and the Quartermaster knew it was almost inevitable he should succumb to the agent's charisma. He would get over it in time. It would have helped if he had time to date, find a man to love but his job meant he had little free time and his position as Quartermaster to Her Majesty's Secret Service meant he had to be extremely careful who he spent time with. Not being able to talk about your job put a dampener on any opening gambit when it came to picking up a handsome stranger! 

Shaking a head over the follies of the Human heart Q turned his attention back to building a light sabre for 002. There were suspicions that science fiction conventions in the USA were used as a cover for deals in illegal arms sales and Mason was the only double 0 agent who was an SF fan. So she was going to a convention in Los Vegas as a Jedi knight. As he assembled the light sabre the Quartermaster mentally spent time designing armaments that looked like a belt buckle and side arm and decided that 002's plain tunic would have some additional ornamentation - not as elegant as the 'remnant of a more elegant time' but needed in the twenty first century. 

Q left MI6 headquarters with plenty of time to get home and eat before Bond arrived. It was a fine evening and he enjoyed the walk from the tube station to his home. When he'd been promoted to Quartermaster he'd finally had the money to buy a small house with a garden for his cats. The house was at the end of the row, with a laneway running down one side. Parking was at a premium in the narrow street but since he didn't own a car or have visitors he never usually bothered if someone parked outside his gate in his council designated spot. 

 

Q defrosted one of the pre-cooked frozen meals he kept in the freezer and poured himself a glass of wine. He sat down in front of the television and watched a Time Team repeat. He found it fascinating to watch the archaeologists carefully scrape away layers of earth and find the remains of the past. Tony Robinson was obviously fascinated by what the diggers found and his comments and questions made even a muddy hole a treasure trove of information. 

Just before eight Q went outside to wait for Bond to arrive. When James pulled up in a dark coloured company car Q crossed the footpath and handed his visitor the parking permit for the space. The council sent parking inspectors around at night to check on who was parking illegally and the permit would save Bond a substantial fine.

Bond nodded his thanks for the parking permit and placed in on the dashboard just above the steering wheel. As he got out of the car another car stopped directly behind his, blocking the entrance to the laneway. The driver used his horn, obviously wanting Bond to move so he could park his car in the same spot.

Q walked back to the late arrival and went to speak to the driver, who wound down his window and leant out so he could say loudly, "what's he doing in my parking spot. Tell him he'll have to move!"

Taking a deep breath and trying to keep a civil tongue in his head Q shook his head. "Mellin, this is my parking spot and my friend has my permission to use it. You'll have to find somewhere else to park."

"But I always park here!" The driver protested. "You never use the spot and I'm right next door."

"I don't mind you parking here normally but tonight I have a guest." Mellin was a self-important man who Q suspected of bullying his wife and daughter. 

"Both my wife and I have important jobs!" Mellin protested again. "I have permits for two parking places." He seemed to think that made him some how superior to ordinary Human's like his neighbour.

Q, who worked with double 0 agents who really were superior specimens wasn't impressed. "That may well be," he agreed, still keeping his temper. Again his experience working with the likes of James Bond meant that he really wasn't impressed by this pompous, self-important prick. "But the extra space isn't this one. It belongs to me so my guest can park here."

"Having trouble here?" Bond asked, his tone as smooth as a very sharp knife through flesh. Q hadn't noticed him moving closer, his tread soundless on the hard paving. 

Mellin, it seemed, had enough self-preservation to sense danger in the stranger's voice and he shook his head and backed out and drove quickly away.

"I think you should buy a car of your own or borrow a company car for a while," Bond suggested with a smirk. He really enjoyed intimidating pompous asses. "He's got too used to using your space. He thinks it's his."

Q nodded. "Come on in, Bond." 

Bond looked around as he was lead into the house. The walls were plain white plaster - the better to show up the paintings and posters. He recognised a Star Wars poster but most of the others were unfamiliar. His brows did rise when he noticed a light sabre hanging by a strap from the coat rack in the hallway but he didn't have time to wonder if it worked as he entered what was obviously the main room of the house and stopped in surprise. High on the white walls was a dark wood hanging rail and for most of its length paintings, smallish posters and drawing showed various space ships. It was a while before he noticed that the furniture, which was plain and ulitarian - apart from the large wide-screen television and DVD player. He was surprised that there were no bookshelves.

"No books, Q?" Maybe the Quartermaster used electronic books. James himself preferred the few books he had to be hard covers. 

"The library is across the hall," Q answered. "Would you like a glass of wine?" He was finding the presence of a double 0, especially 007, in his home was making him nervous. "I do have some scotch if you prefer spirits?"

"Wine, thank you." Bond hoped it was at least a decent vintage. 

Q fetched the wine, waiting for James' reaction. He relaxed when Bond smiled after tasting and then asked, "what did you want to talk about that you couldn't at HQ?"

James took another sip of wine to fortify himself. "When I put my report in I left something out." Q nodded, all the agents left somethings out. M did not need to know the exact details of seductions and fights but he sensed there was rather more to Bond's omission than just incidental detail. "When Silva had me tied up on that damned island of his he … touched me. My shirt was open and he ran his finger down my chest and poked at the wound where Moneypenny shot me." James ploughed on, needing to get this said. "He touched my face." A slight shiver. "I didn't hide my revulsion well enough and he smiled at me … he leered actually." Q's stomach felt like it was full of concrete. He had a dreadful feeling of anticipation. Perhaps James thought that he, as a gay man, could help him through the trauma of being raped by another man. He felt wholly inadequate and wanted to tell Bond that he couldn't help, that he didn't want to know what had happened but he was dumb with horror and couldn't speak. But the words were still being said and he had no choice but to listen. "He said he wanted me, wanted to be my first man." Bond shuddered. "I managed to lie convincingly, I told him he wasn't the first and that made him draw back. There was no fun in raping a man who had experience with another man."

Q almost sagged with relief. But why tell him this if nothing had happened. "I'm glad, Bond," Q said. 

Me, too," Bond agreed. "But it made me think." He took another sip of wine to ease his dry throat. He was feeling ridiculously shy. "I succeeded this time but what about next time? Next time I might not be able lie so convincingly. I want you to be my first Q."

The Quartermaster was speechless with shock. He shook his head, backing away from 007 is horror. He managed to find his voice. "Why do you want me to do to you what you feared that monster would do to you? It would make me no better than a rapist!"

"No it wouldn't," Bond stated, calm now. "It wouldn't be rape because I asked. I know you're gay so you would know how to do it."

Q took a deep breath and shook his head. Having gathered his wits he said, "my answer is still no, Bond, for a couple of reasons." He waved his guest to sit on the settee and took a seat himself. "It won't make it any easier." He sipped his wine and let hated memories swim up to his conscious mind. "When I was at Cambridge I worked with a physics student who wanted me to write a program designed to find evidence for different kinds of quarks in a mass of data from CERN. It was interesting and we became friends. She introduced me to her boyfriend who worked for a building firm that updated old houses - he was a plumber. They were very much in love and I liked being with them. " He took a deep breath and saw that James knew what was coming. "One night she stayed late working and she was raped on the way home. She had previous experience with sex, what the rapist did was mechanically the same as her lover but she told me that it was the intent behind the rape that made is so traumatic." He sipped more wine, his voice harsh and dry. "We never finished the research. She killed herself unable to live with the memory. I lost a friend, Mark lost the woman he loved and the world lost a mind and spirit that …" well there was really no need for more.

"I see," Bond had hoped for help and had been told a brutal truth. "Thank you." It was obvious that the memories were still harsh. But he knew there was more and he had learnt to be sure of everything. "You said there were a couple of reasons. What was the other one?"

"Because once would be either too much or too little!" Q snapped, the truth said before he had to time to still his tongue. He felt heat climb up his face and muttered, "sorry," into the glass.

Bond stood. "Thank you for your honesty at least," he said. "I can't …" he wasn't gay, he didn't want to risk his heart again …

Q smiled wryly, standing as well. " 'Slings and arrows of outrageous fortune', hey?"

Bond nodded and followed his Quartermaster to the door and out of the house. He sat in his car thinking and then got out and went to knock on the front door. There was another quotation he had remembered, 'fortune favours the bold.'


End file.
